


Death Is A Smoky Thing

by PinkNinjas



Category: Critical Role
Genre: (platonic) - Freeform, Campaign 2 episode 48 (Critical Role), Campaign 2 episode 49 (Critical Role), Character Meta, Exploration of Caleb's relationship with Nott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkNinjas/pseuds/PinkNinjas
Summary: Small exploration of Caleb's thoughts around episodes 48-49, Homeward Bound and A Game Of Names. Caleb's headspace is...A little messy! Warning for some negative self-talk.
Kudos: 18





	Death Is A Smoky Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly written during the episode itself, finally decided to post it. A little weird, a little disorganized, but a lot of fun to write!

He’s not sure what to call her—Not sure what to call himself.

Names. Giving names to things—To people—Monster. Murderer. Killer.

There are so many names now.

And now and now and **now** —The past has taken him, eaten him up as it has so many many times before—But now it is not only him. No, now it is worse. Now it is _Nott_ —-Maybe they’re all drowning in it. Maybe they’re all doomed. Maybe the suction has pulled them all in and air will do you no good now—

Maybe this and maybe that and maybe not and just if please don’t—

— _Please_ —

— _Please don’t leave me_ —

— _But_ _I deserve this_ —

— _I deserve to be alone_ —

— _I deserve to be spat upon, and shunned_ —

_—They don’t deserve this, this weight I carry—_

_—The threat that I am—_

And the untruths spill forth alongside the truth, and for a moment it seems the planet stops its turning to watch. The sunlight is frozen and still, as if confined to only the places it had been before, just a moment nearer.

_—Is this… Magic?_

Now the lies swim in the air like invisible fish, freed of the beings that had swallowed them down, and making each breath all too heavy—All too light.

He’s not sure what to call her.

He _knows_ what to call himself.

She may now be a goblin, but of the two of them, she was never the monster.

He’s not sure she’ll ever trust him again.

He knows he won’t.

He can’t.

He never could.

‘ **His** people’, ‘ _Your_ _people_ ’ she said.

She was…She was _right_.

It _hurt_.

It hurt more than it had any right to hurt, and he couldn’t find the words, those beasts that were supposed to come so easily to him, so kindly—They were not where they needed to be found.

They touched not his lips, nor his tongue, nor his mind, yet he stood there, shaking in the sound.

His words, you see, were underground.

Along with the buried dead half-name he had all but turned to ash himself.

—Bren—

—My name is Bren—

—Veth—

—Her name is Veth.—

—Her name is Nott.—

—No.—

— _Nott_ —

— ** _Veth._** —

— _She is not your friend_ —

— _And you are not allowed to be hers._ —

It is so beautiful what minds do, when they touch.

And so very terrible.

So destructive.

All that we can do is try to put the pieces back together.

_Stack your broken shards up so high that none can reach,_

_Pray that time, in kindness, pray that it will teach_

_Us and of each other_

_Forgive if not forget—_

_Pray for and one another_

_The never of regret._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading!


End file.
